


Konoha's Shining Serpent

by outlawpoet



Category: Naruto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-27 18:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13886835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlawpoet/pseuds/outlawpoet
Summary: Mitarashi Anko saves the world. Starts during the Chuunin Exam, canon-compliant up to 600 before that point. Experimental fic, no pairings yet other than Anko/Destruction.





	1. Chapter 1

Mitarashi Anko stirred the dregs of her conspicuously non-alcoholic drink sulkily. She was alone at the bar counter. The other occupant of the room, an older man, ignored her stolidly as he mechanically ate in the corner. Anko spared him a glance in between stirs, but found nothing to note or react to. They ignored each other with the ease of long custom.

Outside Anko could hear the running feet and excited shouts and unquiet whispers of civilians and ninja alike. The few ninja she could identify whispering about the next and final stage of Chuunin exam. The Kazekage's son, the last Uchiha, the little demon brat, heady stuff.

"Me and Ibiki both let through too many Genin in our stages", she told the man in the corner, who showed no sign of listening, "they'll have to cut down the numbers a bit."

She tried drinking the sludgy remains, finding to her horror that it no longer flowed easily, sticking to the bottom of the glass with viscous tenacity.

"They'll probably make up some preliminary matches to make the losers feel better.", she announced, after accepting defeat. "Pair up some of the Genin with more glaring weaknesses to get a better show later on."

She ticked a few names off her fingers, glancing in the direction of the Forest of Death.

The man, a retired ninja whom Anko had been needling for a reaction for almost a week had finished most of his food, and had now set on drinking the sake in the bottle in front of him. He filled his cup carefully, again and again. Regarding each pour before raising it to his lips and drinking with little ceremony.

"We'll have the most in the final stage, of course", she continued, "Although Sand and Sound will probably sneak some in. They have a strong team each left in."

The click and pour of sake into cup continued unabated behind her.

"I saw my old sensei again during the last stage. I think he came to look for more apprentices and traitors. His new village is likely feeling pretty weak now that Mist and Stone are starting to get more active again. The Hokage has ANBU on alert, but they feel that stopping the Exam would only provoke him further against the village."

"He's picked the perfect moment to show up again. We can't afford the disruption to make us look weak to Sand, and while we're strong in mid-rank, we don't have enough S-rank to engage him safely without turning it into a war. Jiraiya and Tsunade are gone, off being hermits. The Yondaime is dead, the Uchiha all gone but that kid. Hizashi was the last S-rank Hyuuga in active duty, and they handed him to Cloud. Maybe if Kakashi was still head of ANBU...", Anko trailed off.

Anko stood, feeling the man, now making no attempt to hide his shock, stare in silence at her back. His cup and bottle sat forgotten. She smiled, face hidden from him, a tiny bitter victory. Checking to see what the man's previous rank and clearance were had opened a whole new vista of conversational gambits.

She carefuly lay her money for the drink, and walked back outside the bar, leaving the silence for the bustle of an excited Konoha.

"An apprentice is responsible for choosing her master", she quoted from memory.

Stretching her legs to find a rooftop path that would have her at the North Wall entrance soon, she muttered and grumbled to herself about old men and clueless Genins, and nobody responsible.

"It's looking like I'm going to have to do something about this myself."

She sped along the buildings alone, the Cursed Seal of Heaven a cutting pain in her neck, pulsing and clenching in time with her chakra; as it did every second of every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take my starting point in mostly canon-compliant fanon. Sintari and ShaperV are the most influential in how I think the world of Naruto really works. We split from canon at the beginning of the story, during the Chuunin exam. This isn't a fixfic or a Better Than Canon, so much as a simulationist exercise. If somebody other than Naruto had any agency, what could they do to change things?
> 
> Next time: Anko's motivation!


	2. Chapter 2

 

"So now Kakashi has encountered Orochimaru as well." Anko said, watching the man in the corner carefully. "He's marked that baby Uchiha, no doubt to be his new apprentice. It would appeal to his vanity to steal the last Sharingan from the Leaf."

The old ninja's face was disappointingly impassive, his chopsticks did not waver as they slowly, steadily emptied his plate.

"The Hokage-" she brightened as a flicker crossed the man's face, "doesn't want Sasuke to drop out despite the obvious threat. Orochimaru could try to steal him either way. Although the kid may have problems anyway, his first match is against the Kazekage's son, who passed my test soaked in blood. He's already put a Konoha nin in the hospital."

Since that early victory, progress had been slow. The man, a new regular at Anko's favorite haunt, had proven mostly inured now to intelligence about threats to the village. His bland demeanor didn't obviously react to sexual blandishment, juicy gossip, nor abuse. If she caught him listening too closely and dropped the volume of her voice suddenly she could almost see him stop himself from leaning in to hear, but it was marginal, as reactions go. Anko found herself talking more and more to him about many things, the secret was to *involve* him somehow. He couldn't be shocked, but he could be invested into her words, which could give her the edge she needed.

 

* * *

 

"Hmm.. He was a Special Jounin, Anko. Competent but not notable, B-Rank. A Sensor Type who specialized in long range intelligence, border stuff mostly, plus a lot of support and supply. He ended his career doing paperwork and rear support, although his career jacket notes he contributed a lot of sealwork and chakra tools to Supply. His work was solid enough that his stuff ended up in ANBU stores- explosive notes and barriers, some chakra-forged steel and ceramics."

Genma looked up from the papers on his small desk.

"Why ask about this guy anyway? He retired last month, no flags. He hasn't even left the village in a year."

Anko thoughtfully carved her name on the wall nearby with a kunai, "Its nothing serious, he just struck me as... whatever."

Unconvinced, Gemna's eyes narrowed: "Anko, if he's done something to arouse your suspicions-"

She flushed and shook her head in annoyance, "No no, it's not that, I was just talking to him recently and I played him with all the classic Anko hits and.."

Genma's senbon rose with his eyebrows as he began to smile.

"He just wasn't impressed", she huffed, "he doesn't react, not that I really minded, but the more I pushed, the stranger it seemed. By the end of it I was sure he was some ANBU infiltrator; you know my annoyance techniques are S-Rank, he doesn't twitch at all, except sometimes to especially surprising things that would have affected his old job, it looks like."

"Anko, you can't go pulling the service records of everybody who doesn't laugh at your jokes.", he protested.

She waved at him in irritation, obviously deep in thought, finishing her carving on the wall with a flourish of her kunai.

"You can't be seriously bothered by this. He may be just some old man, but he was a Special Jounin, the same as you. So what if you couldn't push him around-"

"Just like you and me are the same, right Genma-san?" she smiled sweetly.

Genma's hands were already up and open in a pacifying gesture, "Now Anko-sama, you know I didn't mea-"

The seals Anko's carvings on the wall had concealed flared with the white-blue of pure chakra, as her Animation Technique turned all the wood in his office against him.

She held the Ram seal with one hand as Genma sawed at his suddenly hostile chair with a serrated knife, an abstracted look on her face. Her lips pursed as she read the file on the desk between them upside down.

Genma just concentrated on escaping with as little damage to his office as possible.

 

* * *

 

"In the end people in this village have to be able to face S-Rank threats and not be crazy or mostly retired." Anko had graduated to simply talking with the man, at his table, almost without artifice.

"I think our tendency to raise our heroes so high up has led to too many choosing messy self-sacrifice over potential victory. Think of how many high rank nin we've lost to 'noble' suicide missions in the last twenty years?" Anko suppressed a smile as she caught the telltale stiffness of the man catching himself about to nod.

Her eyes narrowed as she went in for the kill, "Itachi was the same problem in reverse. You ever met him? He was such a sweetypants crybaby you could power a kitten factory off of him, and we had him killing from the day he could hold a kunai. All talent and no coping skills. Our mental training is half broken, we produce loyal ninja with souls, dreams, all that positive crap, but don't give them the mental space to let that coexist with the reality of what we do. Its not the rainbows OR the blood, the friction is what kills you."

Anko grinned triumphantly as the man's eyebrows furrowed and rose during her little prepared speech, turning to her sweet dango, and preparing a triumphant bite-

"Looking to the future then," the man said. "Who do you think could be prepared, mentally and tactically, to face Orochimaru, from current Konoha shinobi?"

Anko glared at the man, holding a napkin to her cheek, she had actually driven her sharp wood dango skewer entirely through as she turned to stare at him. It was the first time she had ever heard him say anything at all. Even his food came without any words exchanged.

"Damn your questions, bastard, I'm going to leak my tea out of the side of my goddamn face now!"

Carefully avoiding a smile, the old man selected one of Anko's dango skewers and ate it contemplatively.

"Given the situation, as you describe it, Orochimaru will force a confrontation before the end of the Exams, yes?", the man said.

"Yes." Anko glared at him. "Probably during the final matches, he likes things like that."

"So who among current Konoha shinobi could be prepared to face him?" the man repeated.

"The Sandaime." Anko said immediately, schooling her face into neutrality, mind racing in two directions. There had to be a way to salvage this.

The man shook his head immediately. "You can't start there. You said yourself his likely objective is to assassinate the Hokage, you will simply give him his opportunity without struggle."

"But..." Anko started, and then stopped. "Even the Hokage doubts there's anyone who can fight him evenly. And age lessens his chances. Orochimaru was the strongest of the Sannin, he has only grown."

"Evenly," the man snorted. "That does sound like something he would say, and think. The Sandaime Hokage has the flaw of all great and powerful shinobi. He imagines how he would defeat Orochimaru, and cannot see anyone we have now succeeding in that way, besides himself."

"You aren't making sense, old man." Anko growled.

"Let's start at the beginning then," he said. "Why did Orochimaru flee when discovered at human experimentation by the Sandaime?"

"He didn't want to be imprisoned or killed," Anko retorted.

"Eyewitness reports suggest the Sandaime Hokage was unwilling to engage Orochimaru in combat at that time," he countered. "Was Orochimaru capable of being killed or defeated by someone else? The Yondaime was dead, the other Sannin elsewhere."

"Even my old sensei couldn't defeat all of ANBU!" Anko said.

"So it's not just a matter of single ninja fighting evenly," the man gestured with three fingers. "Numbers, ninja tools, and context like battle location and surprise can tilt even very powerful ninja to a disadvantage. One does not fight wars with duels, but with infrastructure and tactics, numbers to maximize those points."

"This isn't a war!" Anko protested.

"Isn't it?" the man asked. "Orochimaru has his own village of ninja now. And if he lacks raw numbers he desires, he can hire foreigners, missing-nin, our enemies. Would he come alone? Even if he did, why fight him that way? He isn't just a rogue ninja anymore. He's a military threat to this village all on his own."

Anko was silent.

"But let's pass by that at the moment. Given that we have the infrastructure. Numbers, tools, we have chosen the time and the place. Someone still must hold the blade that kills him." the man said. "Who among current Konoha nin could be prepared to face him?"

"Enough!" Anko shouted. "Fine, I'll answer your question. Even with a squad of ANBU on every side, and surprise, just a few could do it. Kakashi maybe. Gai. Hyuuga Hiashi. Sarutobi Asuma. But they've all got other responsibilities, and weaknesses. Orochimaru knows this. It's a death sentence."

The man waved that away. "Anything can be planned. The question is will they plan it. Do they have the authority, the inclination, or the time and skill. Can they, will they get a squad assembled, can they plan the ambush Orochimaru will die in? Do they?"

"I've just said. They don't. You know they won't do it. No one is even talking about it." Anko said.

"Well then it'll have to be you, won't it Mitarashi Anko?"

 

* * *

 

Two days later, in the middle of the night, Anko stood in the middle of the Hokage's office in silence, cloaked in her most powerful invisibility genjutsu.

"Please tell me what you've come for, Anko-chan," the Sandaime smiled tiredly to the silent darkness. An ANBU in the corner, startled at the sudden words, reached for his sword, stopping as the Hokage shook his head.

"Hokage-sama. You know Orochimaru will make his move in a month, during the final matches of the Chuunin Exams. I wish to assemble a team to respond to his threat, but I lack the authority to command the resources it will require, to order the necessary people to participate." Anko said simply.

Sarutobi Hiruzen, third Hokage of the Hidden Village of the Leaf stood behind his desk silently, waiting for his student's student, his virtual grand-daughter to ask permission to risk her life on his behalf.

"I wish to take the Jounin Exam, Hokage-sama."

The Sandaime closed his eyes, seeming very old in that moment. An grandfatherly man up late at night, alone in a dark room.

The one who was called the God of Shinobi opened his eyes.

Anko's genjutsu went out like a candle in the wind. The Hokage's chakra overwhelmed her, leaving her suddenly visible, kneeling before his desk. His eyes, bright in the darkness, weighed her. She knelt humbly, a woman of 26, at the peak of health, in slim armor. Her chakra was passive, banked low but not hiding, noticeable.

The Hokage stood, the ANBU in the corner taking an involuntary step back as his aura expanded to fill the room, a terrible killing intent radiating from him. Anko remained motionless on the floor.

Small items rolled off the desk as he looked at her, his chakra flaring and flaring until she could see nothing but his judging eyes. Her hair plastered back against her head, papers whispering past her as they caught eddies of his power. He tilted his head and her jacket tore against her back, the storage seals in the scrolls she carried failing, spitting out the weapons and supplies they contained as they were destroyed by the mere contact with his gaze unprotected.

The ANBU in the corner now crouched, his hand raised defensively against the terrible specter he saw before him. And still Anko knelt, her chakra quiet, humble. The floor beneath her creaked with the strain, and the Sandaime raised an eyebrow. The physical force against her was considerable but she did not slide backwards. A moments thought and a half seal allowed the Hokage's eyes to look through her and he seemed to smile at an old genin trick: flat blades down the backs of her boots dug their points into the ground, holding her in place without the disrespect of using jutsu or anchoring chakra in his presence without leave.

He held her there until his chakra began forcing her own out of her body, the muscles in her legs trembling involuntarily as they lost strength and control, seeing her hold down her panicked heartbeat with only will. And still she knelt.

Her breath grew shallow, her clothing in tatters now, the reinforced metal mesh beneath twanging and scratching her, her pouches of scrolls and tools destroyed by destructive chakra/seal reactions. Her hands on her knees now trembled to keep her posture straight. He could see her eyes flashing from him to the window, to a possible escape from this increasing pain and humiliation.

He nodded, and it was done. The room quieted, her breath returned to her.

"I will have time to examine you in two weeks." he whispered. "Be ready, the process will take three days. I warn you, you will not pass as you are now. Make use of your time wisely. You are dismissed from duty to prepare."

She bowed, accepting this chance.

"You both may go. I will retire shortly."

A grandfatherly man stood alone in a dark room. He closed his eyes, a suddenly tired expression on his face as he said a silent prayer for luck, for a kindness, from spirits who had never before answered him in all the years he had asked.

 

* * *

 

The next day Anko arrived at the Jounin Standby Station, and it was clear they all knew.

All the active Special Jounin were there at some point over the next hour, conspicuous in their attempts not to be there for any special reason. And over the next hour, as they lazed, and joked, and people came and went, she found it happened just as she expected. As was tradition, she said nothing and they asked nothing about what she was about to do. As was tradition, she found that she somehow came to speak to everyone on some subject. As was tradition, for a thousand different reasons, they all had something for her. A tool, a paper, some book once mentioned or requested. And as they each pressed upon her what was emphatically not a token or charm, out of what was most emphatically not concern and sympathy for her, they spoke only on the most regular and normal of subjects.

The Special Jounin there were serious and conscientious in their duties. They continued the normal activity of the Standby Station, routing communications, being available for requests, they were restrained and quiet as the missions and duties of the day went by. And no one said anything about luck, and only had the most disparaging jokes about people, (invariably other nin who were involved in funny but not portentous stories), who believed in superstitions. She nodded, and smiled at the foolishness of chuunin and genin who imagined their rituals and recitations brought them fortune, as she received a senbon which had been retrieved and resharpened so many times it was a full half inch shorter than Konoha standard from Genma, a kunai whose tip was so blunted from repeated use it had been reforged and sharpened as a singled edged knife from Ebisu. A book whose pages were so tattered and unreadable the giver was reduced to suggesting it was useful to flatten and shape a pouch when carried in the bottom.

Having received these gifts, and spoken to these people. She moved on to the final tradition. Near the windows, lounging waiting for assignments or communications were the active Jounin of Konoha, who likewise found reasons that they (or at least a clone) would be there. And from each she found, for entirely normal and unremarkable reasons, cause to ask for something. From Kurenai she asked for a genjutsu pattern they had once discussed, from Asuma she merely asked a moment of his time later in the week. She asked for tools they had some speciality in making, for information on subjects they specialized in. She asked from each some unremarkable favor, so they could say yes to her without reservation.

And at last she came to the final person, who had stood apart until this moment, reading a book.

He put it down as she approached.

She sat down next to last living student of the Fourth Hokage.

"I want to read the Yondaime's chakra sealing manual." she said.

"Two weeks isn't enough, Anko," Kakashi said, breaking two rules.

She grimaced as he both said no to her and mentioned her upcoming trial. "It's not that, Kakashi. I'm looking further on. We've both already been tested and found wanting, idiot. My old sensei is coming, and I want to have something ready for him. I need the manual to prepare it, I need to be a Jounin to use it. And maybe I can finally start moving again, after all these years waiting."

Kakashi looked at her, his one visible eye upturned in that meaningless smile he wore almost all the time.

"Well, it sounds interesting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In one small deviation from canon, I've brought Anko up a few years in age. I've no idea how the original timeline is meant to make sense for her to have been Orochimaru's student and still be so young, unless she was only with him for six months, which seems a bit cramped. We also resolve the frankly bizarre situation with Tenzo/Yamato this way, as Orochimaru supposedly experimented on him as an infant, but didn't know he had survived, implying it was just before he was forced out, despite being in canon OLDER than Anko, who was presumably more than an infant when she was studying with Oroch.
> 
> Next time: The Will of Fire!


End file.
